Salem and Order
by drawingdisaster
Summary: Creatures of Darkness stalk the streets of Remnant City, bloodthirsty beings driven by hate and madness preying on innocents. A stern yet kind detective is determined to exterminate the savage beasts that threaten the citizens. Story idea.


The shattered moon was hidden behind grey leaden clouds, the dark shadows they cast choking the lights of the streets bellow. The ceaseless pitter-pattering of falling rain muffled the hurried footsteps of the few pedestrians that were still seeking shelter from the heavy downpour. Raindrops washed over the black silhouettes that hid under their umbrellas, transparent droplets of cold liquid sticking to their raincoats and on top of their hats.

Panting and stumbling, a great ebony shadow dashed across the empty alleyways of the sleeping city. Its four legs diving into muddy puddles of rainwater, its blazing red eyes darting around, frantically. Wet concrete walls surrounded the wheezing being from two sides, hindering its escape. Its pursuer was hot on its trail, monstrous and remorseless.

The young Beowolf spotted a door near the end of the alleyway. It put all of its considerable body weight into its shove in an attempting to remove the wooden barrier and escape with its life intact. Pain flared on the Beowolf's shoulder as the scared Grimm slammed into the door once, twice and then resumed its desperate run. The grinning figure behind it was still pursuing it, jumping over the upturned rubbish bins and makeshift obstacles the Beowolf had left behind it while fleeing.

A thunder rolled in the distance, bathing the narrow back streets in blinding white light. The creature of Grimm howled in horror when another armed figure appeared in front of it, barring its way the moment the Grimm's vision was restored.

The thing was an abomination, the stuff of nightmares, with smooth tanned skin and no trace of bone plating in sight. A long mane of golden hair spurted from the woman's head instead of black fur. Her eyes while scarlet had a sickly white sclera around the irises that made the Grimm want to avert its gaze in repulsion.

The blonde lunatic smiled at the Beowolf, the lack of sharp teeth in her mouth making the Grimm queasy. The poor creature heard something whizzing behind it. The startling reminder of its second deformed pursuer came too late. The caped murderer's grin widened.

Suddenly, pain exploded inside the Beowolf's chest, the wicked blade of a scythe sticking out of its front, bathed in black blood. The blonde monster approached the Grimm, raising a clenched fist, menacingly.

The crack of thunder boomed overhead, masking the pained screams of the dying Grimm. Black blood mixed with the rainwater on the pavement.

_0000_

Red and blue lights danced across the walls of the buildings near the back street that had turned into a crime scene overnight. Hunched behind the yellow ribbon Ursai and Beowolves in police uniforms were comparing notes while dissuading Nevermore journalists from approaching with warning roars. One of the officers gestured to Detective Salem, lifting the yellow ribbon for her to crouch under it.

"What do we have so far?" Salem demanded as a mustached Ursa Major pointed a sharp claw towards a bloodied sheet on the floor. Salem approached the stained cloth, her strides quick and determined. The pale woman knelt next to the body and lifted the sheet. There was nothing under it. The murdered Grimm having long since dissolved after its death, a small blood-spatter on the pavement was the only thing that still remained.

Someone had tried drawing the outline of a Beowolf on the floor with a chalk, but due to lacking opposable thumbs the drawing looked like a random shape with scribbled triangles for a mouth and frail, thin appendages.

Salem frowned as she let the sheet fall back down, covering the stain.

"His name was Bob Fear, 20 years old, a dropout from Hatevard University," The Ursa Major informed Salem while reading his notes out loud from a disproportionally tiny notepad he held on his paws with difficulty, "He is the fourth one we find this week. Some psycho is hunting down Grimm in the city like game animals." The officer grunted sounding frustrated.

"We will find them," Salem reassured her coworker. The Ursa Major sighed before nodding. A pair of Beowolves in uniform wagged their tails happily as Salem passed by them.

_0000_

The camera glides over cartridges of ammunition spilled on a table, various tools and canisters of Dust can be seen spread amongst them. The room is dark save for the occasional spark coming from behind a small figure sitting by said table and a dusty lamp positioned to shed light over the figure's small hands. A young blonde woman can be seen splayed over the couch. She is snoring lightly, unperturbed by the noise and the sparks flying in the air. A red cloak is covering the sleeping woman like a blanket.

The camera moves closer to the short tinkerer that is working on something. A strange weapon can be seen carefully set next to wall. It is a strange amalgam of battle scythe and sniper rifle painted in shades of crimson and black. The weapon looks to have been cleaned recently, its owner keeping it well-maintained and loaded.

There are photos hanging from the wall next to the barrel of the futuristic rifle, along with newspaper clippings and red strings that connect the clippings together in a twisted spider web of violence. Most of the photos show creatures of Grimm, some of them are crossed with a red marker, thick messy lines obscuring the faces of the tinkerer's past victims.

There is a photo of Detective Salem among the vacant stares captured on vandalized paper, crosshairs have been drawn around her head, an address has been scribbled at the bottom of the photo.

The sparks fade away as the tinkerer puts down their tools. They inspect the yellow gauntlets that they have been modifying, scrutinizing their macabre handiwork. Slim delicate fingers press a concealed button and jagged blades pop out from the knuckles of one of the gauntlets. Another push of the button and the blades retreat back with the whirling purr of a hidden mechanism.

The tinkered places the deadly gauntlet back on the table, seemingly satisfied with their work. A pale hand searches for something in the dark, before lifting towards a grinning mouth, a cookie held in its pale grasp. The murderer bites into the cookie snapping it in half. Her smile's all madness and viciousness. Thunder rolls in the distance. Zwei howls in the night.


End file.
